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Can It Always Be This Crazy?

My mom had three girls, and then so many years later that he was like an only child, that one boy. We three girls were not your typical girls, though. We were Tomboys, complete with that capital T. Growing up on a farm, we lived in the barn and stable. We were never in the house, and when we were, we played with toy horses for hours on end. In other words, the house was pretty quiet. At least in my mind. It would help explain why my mom is overwhelmed by noise and chaos. She seems to make up excuses on why she can't watch all my kids at once. Or balks at entire family get-togethers for anything other than Christmas, Thanksgiving, and Easter, even though they're hosted at my house.

I had her over the other week when dad was away. Nobody should spend a week alone, eating dinner quietly with just your thoughts. (Although on occasion I'd like to try it.) She was here, ate dinner, and left just as the family was filing in the door. I could see the fear in her eyes. I hope this isn't a hereditary thing. Her mom is the same way. Do we women just become antisocial after our kids are gone or something?

My family makes me incredibly happy. The chaos, the crazy, the insanity - it's all part of who we are. And when you think things are crazy already, they kick up a notch. And we just roll with it, because it's life here. The nephew is like our 5th child. (I think we'll give him a Christmas stocking this year. For real.) Becky's friends filter in at least twice a week for meals, and the nephew's friends show up mid-week for church as well as any other time they can find excuses to visit. (As if an excuse is needed.) I never know how much food to make, and always lose the cooking game. If I cook for the family, we've got at least two strays showing up on our doorstep. If I cook for the masses, it's just our family, and leftovers crowd the fridge.

The house is crazy noisy at any hour. With five kids of our own, and five dogs in the house, it's never going to be quiet. Micah is always loud, and when the teens start having fun, Micah gets louder. Sam and I just smile behind the backs of kids. (Mostly because I can't see over anyone's head anymore.) And when the teens get too crazy, I delegate chores. The dishes get done, dinner gets cleaned up, and tonight they retrieved my Christmas decor from the attic. I can no longer access the sewing room, I lost half a bucket of glass balls that were crushed in a fall and subsequently vacuumed up (clean hallway!), Micah decided to join the assembly line and streaked from the bathtub dripping wet, and Jack was feeling neglected and pooped on the floor, and the noise levels were off the chart.

But we were happy. All of us. We so very much enjoy the company of our kids and their friends, and if having them here means the house is loud and crazy, we wouldn't change a thing. I truly hope that I don't turn into my mom and cringe at the chaos someday. I want to be surrounded by crazy when my kids are grown, and we have grand kids running through the house, and the noise levels are off the chart, and there are sword fights at the dinner table. (Oh, wait, that was tonight.)

I want to always love the chaos. Mostly because it's a happy thing we've got going here, and who doesn't want happy?